🌹Special $2.99 sale price through March 19th 🌹

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🌹Book Blurb🌹

Experience the world’s most enchanting and timeless love story—retold with a dark and realistic twist.A BEAST LIVING IN THE SHADOW OF HIS PASTReclusive and severely scarred Prince Adam Delacroix has remained hidden inside a secluded, decrepit castle ever since he witnessed his family’s brutal massacre. Cloaked in shadow, with only the lamentations of past ghosts for company, he has abandoned all hope, allowing the world to believe he died on that tragic eve twenty-five years ago.A BEAUTY IN PURSUIT OF A BETTER FUTURECaught in a fierce snowstorm, beautiful and strong-willed Isabelle Rose seeks shelter at a castle—unaware that its beastly and disfigured master is much more than he appears to be. When he imprisons her gravely ill and blind father, she bravely offers herself in his place.BEAUTY AND THE BEASTStripped of his emotional defenses, Adam’s humanity reawakens as he encounters a kindred soul in Isabelle. Together they will wade through darkness and discover beauty and passion in the most unlikely of places. But when a monster from Isabelle’s former life threatens their new love, Demrov’s forgotten prince must emerge from his shadows and face the world once more…Perfect for fans of Beauty and the Beast and The Phantom of the Opera, Beauty of the Beast brings a familiar and well-loved fairy tale to life with a rich setting in the kingdom of Demrov and a captivating, Gothic voice.Beauty of the Beast is the first standalone installment in a series of classic fairy tales reimagined with a dark and realistic twist.Disclaimer: This is an edgy retelling of the classic fairy tale. Due to strong sexual content, profanity, and dark subject matter, including an instance of sexual assault committed by the villain, Beauty of the Beast is not intended for readers under the age of 18.

🎬 Book Trailer 🎬

🌹Excerpt🌹

~ Isabelle bravely takes her papa’s place ~

Quite a while later, as Isabelle relaxed and soaked in the hearth’s warmth, she found herself nodding off to sleep. Her mind detached from the stress of the past few days and receded to another time and place. She recalled her journeys with Papa when she’d been little more than a girl. All the villages they’d passed through; all the faces they’d seen. She thought of reading fairy tales beneath a bejeweled sky, of leaning against a mountain of crates as Papa pointed out the constellations and their eternal stories—Rattling seized her attention and ruptured her thoughts. She peered at Papa, who was carefully examining his teacup. Not with his sightless eyes, of course—but with wandering fingertips. The same impressive coat of arms engraved the fine proclaim; Papa ran his weathered fingers over its surface, clearly in awe of the raised gold decorations and studded gems. The thing must have cost a small fortune. Indeed, she’d never beheld such finery. Even the wares Papa had once sold paled in comparison. The faded brim of his top hat hung low and covered his glassy eyes.Then her mouth went dry as he slipped the teacup inside his coat.Has he gone mad—or simply grown that desperate? It was completely unlike Papa to steal. How could he—and after being shown hospitality?Her outcry startled him.He half leapt from the chair—and Isabelle watched in horror as the teacup tumbled out from the coat. It rattled and rolled onto the stone ground, shattering into a million pieces.A gloved hand broke through the darkness, quicker than a lightning strike. The hooded figure emerged from the shadows and seized Papa by his cravat. His other hand clasped a branch of flickering candles. The illumination flashed across the dark folds of his cloak, soaking him in a pool of light.“Stealing from me, are you? Breaking my family’s keepsakes?” A sharp jerk forced Papa to his feet. The rough movement sent the top hat tumbling from his head and onto the stone floor. Papa’s waxen features melted into an expression of horror and confusion.Her heart pounding, Isabelle lunged forward and frantically cried out, “Let him alone! It was an accident. Don’t you see that you’re frightening him?”“Good.” The simple declaration threw Isabelle into stunned silence. Papa called out for her as the man strode from the sitting room, his solid legs eating up the ground in swift, decisive strides. Mon Dieu, he was physically dragging Papa through the castle.This isn’t happening. It cannot be…“Stop it! Stop it now—you monster!” Isabelle picked up her skirts and frantically chased after them. Parts of the castle were dark and unkempt, causing her to trip several times over wayward pieces of furniture. Her heart violently pounded in her ears. The man moved impressively fast; between his agile stride and sweeping cloak, he almost appeared to float through the corridors. Plopping onto the stone floor, his dog gave up trying to keep pace. Dust motes rose and fell in midair like ashes, obscuring her vision. She followed the branch’s illumination, watching as the candlelight threw prisms along the walls and floor.“Please, monsieur. Have mercy, I beg you! He didn’t know any better. He's not in his right mind. He would never—”“No one steals from me.” His low voice echoed in the darkness, steady as a war drum.Isabelle felt herself descending. She ducked as she crossed a low archway, where she was met with a steep flight of stairs. A mouth into Hell. The ceiling lurked unusually low and was strung with cobwebs. Isabelle hiked up her skirts, which were now a filthy mess, and raced down the decayed steps. The hooded figure kept a swift pace while she desperately pursued Papa’s frightened cries.Plagued by the darkness, Isabelle tripped and crashed down the stone steps. Pain cascaded through her body, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her skinned knees and elbows throbbed, her heart pounded, her head burned. She spared a moment to catch her breath as she struggled to her feet and resumed her vain quest. Papa’s muffled pleas and the sound of slamming bars ripped at her very soul.The dank dungeon was nearly black. She slowed her pace, moving toward a beam of light at the far end. Rats the size of kittens scurried across the stone floor and filled the darkness with their terrible squeaking. Her heart thudding, Isabelle rushed through the maze of cells, following Papa’s voice and that flickering light. Chains and crude-looking objects littered the ground—torture devices from a past age, she realized with a shudder.She found them.Papa was grasping the rusted bars; disoriented and frightened, he was murmuring incoherent pleas. Tears fell from his sightless eyes, though Isabelle knew he fought to restrain them. The branch of candles sat in front of the cell, its wavering light illuminating his terrified expression.“Forgive me. I have wronged you when you showed my daughter and me hospitality and mercy. Please, monsieur!”The man towered before him, silent and still. His long arms remaining crossed, he stood with his lean torso straighter than a broadsword. His hood was drawn back, though Isabelle couldn’t see his face from her angle. “Papa, I’m here,” she said beneath the weight of a strained breath.“I-Isabelle?”Not sparing a moment, she dashed over to the cell—and the man slowly rotated into sight.Except he resembled more of a beast than any man she’d ever seen.Isabelle clamped both hands over her mouth and forced her eyes away. The sight burned—and the inferno in his gaze only kindled that fire.Half of his face looked monstrously twisted; charred mounds of puckered flesh distorted the features beyond any recognition, draining him of all traces of humanity. Those heaps of burned, leather-like skin gleamed and glistened in the candlelight. His hairline receded on the left side of his face and slanted high above a shriveled ear. Under the severe scarring, his age was more or less indistinguishable—though Isabelle guessed he wasn’t a day under thirty-five.But his eyes were breathtaking. Two brilliant sapphires. There was also a great sadness and anger in those eyes, as if he’d suffered more than his share of original sin. Alas, as she gazed into his eyes, all she saw was blue ice—an endless, arctic landscape of cold desolation.The man turned away, appearing greatly affected by her stare, and hastily rearranged the hood. His scarred hands trembled as he smoothed down the cloak’s thick folds.“Release him,” she demanded. “He didn’t mean any harm. I—”“No one meddles with my family’s possessions. He can rot down here as my prisoner. He ought to count himself fortunate that I haven’t taken his hand.”“Your prisoner? This... this is a mistake! You must believe me. He’d never—”A deep, husky chuckle cut through her plea. “Even so.”“Please. Just let him out.”“It’s too late for that.” Those words seemed to speak volumes. He exhaled a long breath, and Isabelle watched as it unfurled against the darkness in a cloud.Silence.“Why... why are you so angry? Why must you be so hateful? So cruel?”“If I let him go,” he said at length, “what can you offer in return?” Isabelle couldn’t find her tongue. She wandered directly in front of the cell, almost in a lucid trance, and clasped the cold bars. Papa was huddled in the corner now, coughing and shivering. Guilt, unlike anything she’d known before, pulsated through her.I’m to blame for this. And if Papa stays here, he’ll die well within a fortnight, likely much sooner…“Get out of my sight.” The man’s voice jarred Isabelle from her inward stupor. She turned to him and stepped forward, raising her chin at a defiant angle. I am not so easily broken or frightened.I am a survivor.She scanned her empty, dank surroundings: the cold stone walls, sweeping cobwebs, and blazing branch of candles. Despair encased her. Stark emptiness. She dared to step closer while a faint trace of pity bloomed inside her heart.They stood centimeters apart. Heat radiated from the man’s body, surrounding her, immersing her. Isabelle vainly searched for softness him, but only a dark, embittered spirit reached her. She stared up at his towering frame and gestured for him to bow forward. He hesitated, then did as she commanded. Her hands shook, damn her, as she peeled back his hood and met that piercing gaze again.Half of his face was handsome—devastatingly so. In her twenty-two years of life, she’d never beheld such haunting beauty.Jet‑black waves, rich and flowing, framed the chiseled lines of his startling features. Stubble peppered the strong curve of his jawline and shadowed a smooth, sculpted cheekbone. The right side of his face was striking, beautiful—a stark contrast to its wrecked counterpart. And within those patrician angles and intense eyes, she encountered his humanity.His was a face of inconsistencies. Complex. Damaged. Predatory. And more than a bit intriguing. “I will stay with you,” she heard herself whisper. “In my father’s place.”“Isabelle—no! I forbid it!”The man folded long, strong arms across his broad chest. His gaze crawled down her face and settled on the rise of her breasts—planting directly on her silver cross.“I demand he’s seen by the finest of physicians.”“Isabelle! Listen to me! I’m an old man. I’m dying. I—”The man’s dark, strangely erotic voice cut through the cellar, and his eyes whipped back to her own with a startling force. “As my mistress.”“What?”“You must stay here as my mistress. For as long as I demand. Perhaps forever.”Forever.The word rang with a note of finality.“Please, Isabelle! I beg you. Don’t do this!”How could I endure it?“Do as I say and your father shall safely return home.” He waved his cloaked arms with a magician’s delicate grace. “Your father—whatever family you may have—shall want for nothing. A house, clothing, anything they require. You only need to say the word. Your father will be under my protection—under the care of nurses and physicians—until his last breath.”Isabelle briefly recalled what—and who—was waiting for her back in Ruillé. This fate wouldn’t be much worse. This desolate castle could serve as the perfect hideout. Papa would live in France, free from Raphael’s clutches and in the hands of the world’s greatest physicians…“How... how can I trust you?” And does he even have the wealth to uphold such a promise?“You cannot.”She had faith Papa would send help once his health recovered. Or she’d find a way out, means of escape. In the interim, she would survive this grim castle and whatever horrors it concealed. Papa would not. The castle would crush him beneath its dark heel in a matter of days.Isabelle glanced at Papa again, then stared into the man’s brilliant eyes. There, lurking within those expressive depths, she found the softness she’d pursued minutes before. She sucked in her breath and nodded her agreement.“It is done.” The man swept backward. “He’s to remain down here till first light. Then our agreement shall be carried out. In the meantime, I will bring blankets and food—”“But it’s so cold! He—”“Stole from me while he was a guest in my castle.”He would not compromise. That much was certain.“I demand to stay with him.”“As you please.” He unlocked the cell. “Beyond the dungeon lies a labyrinth. Try to escape, and you’ll be lost forever.”He tapped the wall with his booted heel. It swiveled, spun, and rotated, sweeping her captor to the other side...

🌹Excerpt🌹

~ Adam gives Isabelle his library ~

“Close your eyes, ma belle.”Strong hands cupped either side of her face. She felt as Adam’s thumbs tentatively brushed back and forth, stroking her cheeks in reverent caresses. Isabelle shut her eyes and slipped beneath his spell... leaned closer in the darkness until they stood heartbeat to heartbeat. The warmth of his breaths teased her hairline, bringing with them a minty scent. His thumbs descended to just below her chin. She lowered her face... felt a featherlight kiss land on her brow. It happened so subtly and gently—Isabelle wasn’t sure whether she’d imagined it.She was allowing herself to feel too much. A stab of guilt penetrated her chest as her thoughts crept inward. Yet instincts told her to trust in her gut—to allow her heart to speak over her tumultuous thoughts. So she shoved away her guilt and allowed herself to simply feel.Pounding footfalls echoed in the room, attesting to its sheer size. Isabelle waited in anticipation under the veil of darkness, her small hands knotted in Stranger’s wiry coat. The steady beat of Adam’s boots floated away from her. A loud whipping noise and a burst of light illuminated the room as he tugged a heavy damask curtain aside.“Open your eyes, Isabelle.”She did as he commanded. Shafts of sunlight tore inside, dancing across the marble floor in blaring prisms—though the darkness still obstructed the room’s contents. Isabelle’s imagination soared as she fantasized about what lay in those clotted shadows. Pale light fringed Adam’s formidable shape, contrasting his silhouette against the dim atmosphere.He paused in front of the opened window and folded both arms behind his ramrod-straight back. Isabelle gazed at the line of his body, unable to tear her eyes away. Indeed, light from the window set him aglow, shrouding him in a cloak of gold. He wore black trousers and a white silk shirt, which fluttered lightly when he moved. Over the past several days, he’d made a habit of abandoning the cloak and hood. Isabelle had become accustomed to the mismatched sides of his face; where she once felt horror and revulsion, she now tingled with curiosity and budding admiration. Alas, the only true revulsion that remained was the memory of that night…Adam was an undeniably prideful man, and she knew he’d only scorn her pity. Even his stance exuded a sense of importance and authority. Strange, how he was so often shy and almost childlike; then, as if by a flip of a coin, he’d turn regal, confident. It was as though he was battling two separate halves... as if an intricate part of himself kept fighting to emerge.Not unlike the two contrasting sides of his face, Isabelle mused.For a suspended moment, he stood in front of the conservatory window, his scarred hands planted on his lean hips as he surveyed the distant gardens. Then he crossed the room, his footfalls amplified by the medallion flooring, and thrust open another curtain.Whoosh. Light flooded the space and chased away the shadows, and the room’s contents were ushered into view.Isabelle nearly lost her breath at the sight.It was a beautiful library—the most stunning sight she’d ever beheld. Ornate, intricately carved shelves towered against the painted walls and reached for a gilded ceiling. A baroque chandelier hung in the heart of the room; its crystals sparkled like diamonds as they drank in morning’s light. Isabelle fought to temper her racing heart as she gaped at the sweeping shelves. An intimate reading nook lined a curved window; lush pillows decorated the chaise, and a brass candelabra towered beside it.In all her life, she’d never seen so many books. There were far too many to count. Too many books to read in one lifetime. Isabelle couldn’t help but think of the little storekeeper from Ruillé’s bookshop; she imagined his astonishment, how his bushy white brows would rise at the sight of Adam’s vast library. He’d run his wrinkled fingertips over the bindings and spines, reverently caressing each one. Her heart twisted with nostalgia at the thought of her former home. Once Raphael had entered her life, however, Ruillé had transformed into a prison.This castle should have been just that. A jail cell. Yet she’d never felt more free than in that moment.The library was larger than her whole cottage; several book-filled rooms connected to it, each one built with floor-to-ceiling shelves. Three sliding ladders were nestled against the circular walls, soaring to the very top of the domed ceiling.She spun on her heels, twirling in place—watching as the immense collection flurried by in a fantastic mosaic of colorful spines and intricate woodwork.Her eyes planted on Adam, who stood in front of the large row of glowing, arched windows. His arms were still folded behind his body, his sleek back straighter than an arrow. She couldn’t find her voice, couldn’t move forward, although she ached to reach out and embrace his solid body.How would it feel to be enveloped inside that commanding strength?A devastating smile spread across his misshapen features and cut her thought short. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, which was highlighted by the sun’s rays, and then hesitantly strode toward her. His boots rapped against the floor, and the sound swelled through the library. Stranger barked as he approached, the loud noise echoing in the room and jarring Isabelle from her trance.“Do... do you like it?”Finally he stood before her, silent and still. Isabelle inhaled a long breath, then laid her palm on the left side of his face. Her fingertips danced over the raised ridges and welts, the reddish scars and shriveled ear. His eyes shuttered closed, and she felt a shudder rake through his tense body.“Yes. I love it.” And I'm starting to fall in love with you, too...

🌹Meet the Author🌹

Rachel L. Demeter lives in the beautiful hills of Anaheim, California with Teddy, her goofy lowland sheepdog, and her high school sweetheart of fourteen years. She enjoys writing poignant romances that challenge the reader’s emotions and explore the redeeming power of love.Imagining dynamic worlds and characters has been Rachel’s passion for longer than she can remember. Before learning how to read or write, she would dictate stories while her mother would record them for her. She holds a special affinity for the tortured hero and unconventional romances. Whether crafting the protagonist or antagonist, she ensures every character is given a soul.Rachel endeavors to defy conventions by blending elements of romance, suspense, and horror. Some themes her stories never stray too far from: forbidden romance, soul mates, the power of love to redeem, mend all wounds, and triumph over darkness.Her dream is to move readers and leave an emotional impact through her words.Don’t be a stranger! Rachel loves to connect and interact with her readers:

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

NOW AVAILABLE IN PRINT:

When a pack of rogue werewolves makes a grab for the local pack’s land, Rupert, the local alpha, does his best to keep the peace. Unfortunately, his people have been having some issues of their own that complicate matters.

When Phelan, Rupert’s second, becomes the latest wolf to lose control over a simple dispute, Rupert is left with no other choice than to seek outside help.

Krissy, a human empath who stumbled on the scene, was able to help Phelan, but dealing with an entire pack of enraged werewolves is too much for one person to handle. With Master Darien on his honeymoon, Rupert turns to his next best choice—Elliot.

Now Phelan, Elliot, and Krissy have to discover what’s driving the weres into emotionally savage rages before all hell breaks loose and destroys the wolves of Brenton.

START THIS SERIES TODAY FOR FREE IN DIGITAL FORMAT:

After landing a job as the assistant to a handsome CEO, Victoria Westernly feels like her life is finally on the right track. But when she discovers her new boss is the city's most powerful vampire, she'll have to decide whether this new life is worth the risk...

ABOUT JULIE WETZEL:

Originally from Ohio, Julie always dreamed of a job in science. Either shooting for the stars or delving into the mysteries of volcanoes. But, life never leads where you expect. In 2007, she moved to Mississippi to be with her significant other.

Now a mother of a hyperactive red headed boy, what time she's not chasing down dirty socks and unsticking toys from the ceiling is spent crafting worlds readers can get lost it. Julie is a self-proclaimed bibliophile and lover of big words. She likes hiking, frogs, interesting earrings, and a plethora of other fun things.
And with the Kindling Flames series, she is now an Internationally Best-Selling Author.

Monday, March 13, 2017

A fresh twist on a classic story, Bellamy and the Brute proves true love really is blind.
When Bellamy McGuire is offered a summer job babysitting for the wealthy Baldwin family, she’s reluctant to accept. After all, everyone in town knows about the mysterious happenings at the mansion on the hill—including the sudden disappearance of the Baldwin’s eldest son, Tate. The former football star and golden boy of Wellhollow Springs became a hermit at the age of sixteen, and no one has seen or heard from him since. Rumors abound as to why, with whisperings about a strange illness—one that causes deformity and turned him into a real-life monster. Bellamy wants to dismiss these rumors as gossip, but when she’s told that if she takes the job, she must promise to never, ever visit the third floor of the mansion, she begins to wonder if there really is some dark truth hidden there.
Tate’s condition may not be the only secret being kept at Baldwin House. There are gaps in the family’s financial history that don’t add up, and surprising connections with unscrupulous characters. At night there are strange noises, unexplained cold drafts, and the electricity cuts out. And then there are the rose petals on the staircase. The rose petals that no one but Bellamy seems to be able to see. The rose petals that form a trail leading right up to the 3 rd floor, past the portrait of a handsome young man, and down a dark hallway where she promised she would never, ever go…
As Bellamy works to unravel the mysteries of Baldwin House and uncover the truth about Tate, she realizes that she is in way over her head… in more ways than one. Can her bravery and determination help to right the wrongs of the past and free the young man whose story has captured her heart?

Author Bio:
Ever since she first read books like Chronicles of Narnia or Goosebumps, Alicia has been a lover of mind-bending fiction. Wherever imagination takes her, she is more than happy to call that place her home. With several Fantasy and Science Fiction titles under her belt, Alicia strives to write multicultural characters and stories that touch the heart. V-Card, the first book of the Sharing Spaces series, was her first Contemporary Romance.
The mother of three and wife to a soldier, she loves chocolate, coffee, and of course good books. When not writing, you can usually find her with her nose in a book, shopping for shoes and fabulous jewelry, or spending time with her loving family.

Friday, March 10, 2017

Blurb: Twenty-two-year-old alpha wolf, Isa McGowan, is busy. While most people her age are finishing college and starting their careers, Isa’s raising four pre-teens and running a restaurant. She doesn’t have time for dating, and she especially doesn’t have time for the lunatic standing on her porch, claiming to be her fiancé . . . no matter how pretty he is.

Wren Davies has a dangerous problem, and Isa is his solution. When he arrives in Belle Haven to explain his plight, the last thing he expects is a punch to the face. Instead of finding a politically savvy alpha with a large wolf pack, he meets a barely five-foot spitfire with a mess of kids, a mean right hook, and a million excuses why she’ll never honor their betrothal.

Now Wren has two problems…

Martina McAtee lives in Jupiter, Florida with her teenage daughter, her best friend, two attack chihuahua's and two shady looking cats. When she isn't writing young adult books about worlds with reapers, zombies, werewolves and other supernatural creatures she's reading or watching shows that involve reapers, zombies, werewolves and other supernatural creatures. Her debut novel Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things released in August of 2015. Her second book in the Dead Things series, Dark Dreams and Dead Things, released July 15, 2016.

Lucas Thorn wasn’t born a cheater. All it took was a single moment—say, a certain disastrous incident on the night before his wedding—and boom. Reputation destroyed forever and always. So now he owns it. He has a lady friend for every night of the week (except Sundays—God’s day and all), and his rules are simple: No commitments. No exceptions.

But a certain smart-mouthed, strawberry blonde vixen is about to blow that all to hell.

Avery Black has never forgiven Lucas for cheating on her sister. And suddenly being forced to work with him is pretty much a nightmare on steroids. Of course, it does afford her the opportunity to make his life as difficult as possible. But no good revenge scheme comes without payback. Because he didn’t become the Lucas Thorn without learning a few things about women.

Now Avery’s lust for vengeance has turned into, well, lust. And if Lucas stops cheating, it’s definitely not because he’s falling in love…

Review:

Rachel just has a way of making you love the guys you want to hate but can't! Really seriously I wanted to hate Lucas Thorn but I fell in love with him instead,definitely the Lucas Thorn Effect! This is really a great book and got me out of my reading slump! Plenty of humor and a whole bunch of angst!Amazon

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

With the balance restored, Nivian
and Kain settle into a comfortable routine. While he wants to move
forward with Nivian, the more time they spend together, she begins to
worry she's using him to get the one thing she wants in life—memories of
her past life.

Things aren’t as peaceful as they seem, the veil
between realms begins to crack, causing shifts unlike what has ever
been known before. Amid disappearances and the ever increasing dizzy
spells that plague her, Nivian must deal with the turmoil of emotions
within her heart.

As the balance begins to veer, it threatens to
rip apart the fabric between worlds by an unknown force. Nivian and Kain
must find the cause. If they don’t, the world as they know it may turn
into hell on earth.

Buy book 1 now!

Ali Winters was born and raised in the Pacific North West where she developed her love of nature, animals, and all things green.
For as long as she can remember, she’s been mesmerized by the
extraordinary world of books and fantasy. There has never been a time
when stories were not begging to be told, either by drawing,
photography, or writing.
With encouragement from one of her favorite authors, she jumped in, head
first, to pursue the career that had been calling to her since the day
she opened her first book.
She has a deep love for coffee, tea, warm blankets, dogs, creating art in any medium she can get her hands on, and family.

Monday, March 6, 2017

Dr. Bexley Vaughn is a genius at the top of her field. When she’s invited to apply her cutting-edge science to help the Memphis Knights football team return to its winning legacy, she jumps at the chance to work with two of the biggest names in the game. What she doesn’t expect is to fall hard and fast for both the veteran quarterback Paxton Davies and Dean Kincade, the eager young rookie looking to replace him. When things spiral out of control both on and off the field, Bexley will have to decide whether to risk it all on an impossible gamble, or to walk away and leave what’s left of her heart on the field.

The only thing she knows for certain is that, sometimes, finding love means re-writing the playbook.

She is the love child of authors June Stevens Westerfield and Sherry D. Ficklin, who have often lamented that between the two of them they are one amazing writer. Their debut series, The Memphis Knights Football Romance Novels, was born of Sherry’s deep and abiding love for football and June’s deep and abiding patience with her nonsense. They have been friends and partners in crime for most of the 21st century and plan to continue that streak well into their Life Alert years. They live worlds apart because, they suspect, that much awesome in one concentrated area *could* produce some sort of time-altering worm hole. That’s just science, folks.

He turns his full attention to me, his brown eyes dark and intense. For a moment I stare at him, my heart pounding hard in my chest as if counting the distance between us. When he leans toward me, I rock forward to meet him. There’s a voice in the back of my head screaming, but I stifle the sound. Meeting his lips with my own, I let myself tumble into him, a gentle warmth growing inside me. His hesitance evaporates and he clutches my waist, drawing a soft moan from my lips as my body reacts, taking us both by surprise. His lips are softer than I imagined, his touch gentler. It’s the sort of kiss you never expect, the kind that pulls you in like the tide rolling against the shore.

As soon as he releases me I feel the flush hit my face, my cheeks and ears burning with it. What the hell am I doing? Sliding off the desk I return the can to the fridge, keeping my back to Dean as I fight to steady my breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he says gently. “If I misread…anything.”

Taking a deep breath, I turn back to him, “No, no you didn’t. I just…can’t…”

Sliding off the table he crosses the room, taking my hands in his, “I’ve never met anyone like you,” he whispers, sending ripples along my skin. “Someone who takes none of my shit, but somehow seems to understand me better than anyone.” I inhale the scent of him and the room spins, everything becoming foggy, all the reasons this shouldn’t be happening vanish in a puff of smoke. “You can’t blame me for wanting you, for taking my shot.”

Natasha and Gabriel are thrown into parenthood and this should be one of the happiest times of their lives, but unforeseen circumstances and deep-seated problems within the family destroy their happiness, rocking the very foundations of their relationship in a way they could never have imagined. The gift of new life, rather than creating a special bond between them and bringing the pair closer together, is tearing them apart.

Josh, Natasha’s ex, is back on the scene with an offer the family are unable to refuse, forcing old feelings to resurface and bringing further complications to Natasha’s life.

Perfectly Flawed is a second-chance romance novel. There’s no denying that Natasha and Gabriel’s relationship had anything but the perfect start, so don’t they deserve their happy ever after, their perfect ending?

Laura Wells has a love of books, animals and, of course, Jane Austen. She enjoys spending her spare time with her family and two mad Shiba Inus. She lives in Staffordshire, England.

Laura and Judy are a mother and daughter duo; with Judy's love of poetry and writing and Laura's ideas, they work extremely well together. Time-travel and romance novels are their passion.